Dear My Next ‘The One’…

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DISCLAIMER: The follow should NOT be read if you occupy one half of a blissful, content relationship. Please leave this page immediately to send another love-letter-text to smile at your person, the next time they pick up their phone.

To the rest of humanity- broken, looking or hoping, this one is for you.

To my future darling Oliver/Jake/Felicity/Possum Pie,

This is the first of many love letters, so I hope you are the kind of person who finds my thoughts echoed across cyber-space as a more eco-friendlier option, then the obvious crumpled letters. Then of course, said receipts of our love will meet their ends via bon-fire cleanse or careless hands or worst- read aloud at our wedding by your dick of a best-man. I can’t wait to meet him! I’m only joking… He’s probably your brother, so I will try to find something endearing about him.

So you are my second shot at a real, all-consuming love. Wow, you have finally arrived in front of me! Despite not knowing who you would be, what you would look like or how much of your day is spent on Pokemon-go or on a football field; I have a great feeling about you, deep in my bones.

My training wheels in relationships were violently thrown to shit last time around so I know what a red-flag looks like and how durable I can be. In saying this, I am sorry if my last torturer of love ever walks into our restaurant, as I will no doubt have to use you as a human shield to get the fuck out of there. Sorry, again!

You- someone new. A chapter I will probably open without knowing just how many times your face will be etched into my memory.

Me- shows up spontaneously on your veranda baring food.

You- a new unidentified colour that will no doubt splatter my days in something interesting and messy.

Me- someone who calls you in the most inconvenient times to talk about whales and sharks and how they can exist together.

You- fills a comfortable silence with whistling and my hand with yours.

Me- trusting. The way you will flip the bill and not throw it back in my face in an argument later in the week.

Us or not us:

Perhaps you will encourage me to go out with my pack of single gals and vice-versa only to arrive back in the others bed to discuss the night that was.

You- a different kind of love. A flavour I have not yet worked out. Your complex rhythm I am yet to categorise, but secretly hope I never do. Maybe we will see the others sweet, sour, bitter and complex sides or maybe none at all.

Regardless, you are tangible evidence that when one forever walks away from you, something unequivocally beautiful can somehow manifest in its place. But because it’s the second time, you are somewhere closer to the streetlight. That way, I can see all of you for what you are and have the knowledge to appreciate all you are not.

You also shatter the myth that all heart-broken people refuse to acknowledge, which is that all hearts can never be spoiled. They stay the same from day one. Sitting warm and open and curious inside us. Their eyes having been temporarily blinded, will one day be open wide enough to see different people with pieces of themselves that they are ready to let us borrow.

So lover! My darling, treasure-sweet,

I just wanted to thank you.

Thank you for turning up whenever you did and not turning up when I wasn’t absolutely myself again. Thank you for seeing past the intoxicating love mist that creates blind attachment. Thank you for being patient and knowing that there will always be someone out there who walks around with pieces of me still stuck in their soul. But also for not being jealous, as you know my heart is more content making a home in yours.
And lastly, thank you for loving my best friend. She is my other soulmate in this life and without her my heart would not at all be in such a condition it is. Thus, we would never have been able to notice the other in such a way we, and only we, do.

Thank you for showing me that a different kind of love, can have a different kind of outcome.